


The Dragon Prince

by TickTackTiffany



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dragonborn - Freeform, Dragons, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy AU, Hajime is a smartass, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito-centric, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Homophobia, Komaeda Nagito Needs a Hug, Komahina - Freeform, Komahina centric, Komahina fantasy au, Komahina freeform, M/M, Monster Hunter And Monster, Reincarnation, Skyrim - Freeform, Sort Of, Soulmates, Trigger Warning: Alcohol, Vampires, Warlocks, Werewolves, Witcher - Freeform, Witches, a lot like witcher and skyrim except theres komahina, bisexual nagito, but its mutated hajime, danganronpa - Freeform, enemies to lovers slow burn, hajime thinks hes straight, hajime with powers, komakura - Freeform, nagito with powers, slowburn, spoiler-- hes not, will add character tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TickTackTiffany/pseuds/TickTackTiffany
Summary: There is only one thing Hajime hates more than himself. Monsters. And yet he is a monster of his own brand-- a mutated human who is hated by the people and equipped with superhuman abilities to the point life is almost boring despite the fact that he is constantly ostracized and in near-death experiences. What would it be like to experience the same pain normal people get to feel? His feelings were better left bottled up and ignored-- And what better way to deal with this aggression and forced mutation than to become the best monster hunter out there! If you have a job and the coin he's your man! Now as for the trophy he'd love most to have? The head of the fabled snow dragon-- a story as old as time itself. But dragons have been extinct for a thousand years-- if they ever truly existed at all. He says he'd cut the head off the mythical creature if it ever became a breath of reality instead of lore-- but when faced with the dragon prince himself he might just change his mind.(I changed the title from the snow dragon to the dragon prince because I like it better)(Think Hajime as like The Witcher with a Skyrim layout but with the Danganronpa Cast (Komahina centric))
Relationships: Chabashira Tenko/Yumeno Himiko, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 21
Kudos: 64





	1. Ballads and Blood Moons

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to take a break for a few weeks since I just finished writing "You're Alone, Kokichi. And You Always Will Be" but inspiration struck and here we are! This is going to be a lot different from my last story-- The chapters will be shorter (it just feels right with this kind of story) and it'll be more action packed. If this does good I might later change the names/characteristics so I could actually possibly publish it. We shall see! :) if you're coming back from my other story I literally love you <3 I haven't replied to yall yet but it's because I want to think out my replies in depth instead of just half-baked I mean it is the LAST chapter of it after all so it's gotta mean something! :) 
> 
> Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this 'enemies to lovers' fantasy AU and I look forward to your reactions to this shift in storytelling! :D

“Rough night?” Rantaro, the kindest barkeep he’d met yet, asked with a warm smile. Most didn’t care to ask someone like him how he was doing.

Hajime shook his head with a soft scoff bringing the well-deserved ale back to his lips, side-glancing the night sky through an open window bringing in a warm breeze. He’d seen a few blood moons in his life but none had ever looked as vibrant as the one tonight did. Returning his attention to the man cleaning the birch counter he said, “You could say something like that.” He knew he looked like shit, his dark ragged hair, outgrown over the last two weeks, still littered with the debris of a broken table he’d been tossed through mid-fight, his black clothes, although not much to look at just like the rest of him, were ripped and bloodstained, some older than tonight. Setting the mug down he laughed at a memory of a fight he'd had with a werewolf. “Believe it or not I’ve seen worse.” 

“What was this one?” Rantaro grabbed the mug and filled it up for him, understanding the hand gesture he’d made asking for more silently. “If you don’t mind me asking?” 

Hajime pushed a hand through brown hair, knocking crumbles of dirt and blood off of it as he did so and sighed remembering her. He recalled the gleaming red eyes atop beautiful porcelain white skin, black curls hanging off her shoulders in a way that was bewitching by itself. She’d called herself a name-- ‘Celestia.’ Hajime couldn’t be bothered to refer to any of them by their names-- why call a monster by anything else but by that? “Vampire.” He pulled down his collar to show where she'd got him, two puncture wounds already mostly healed though they'd just been put there a few hours ago; a bite that would usually turn someone so easily if they weren’t drained. But not for Hajime for he was his own branch of monster-- a mutated human tampered with by his own father for reasons he still didn’t know, his father having left after creating him saying it was ‘for his own protection.’ Although he couldn’t become one of _them_ he still was his own brand of abnormal and loathed that he was like this. “She got me and I surprised her when I used that chance to finish her off with old faithful.” He pulled out the silver knife waving it around before pocketing it with a smirk. 

Rantaro’s eyebrows scrunched up for a second imagining what kind of woman she might’ve been. He was one of the few monster sympathizers still left. “Man, I wish I could be like that-- able to hold my own against one of them. I know vampires can brainwash you. I’d be a goner for sure.” He kept his voice low, knowing what the others thought of both Hajime and monsters. 

“No,” Hajime said at the same octave, a sad smile on his face he was quick to cover up taking another sip of ale before he finished, “You don’t.” 

“Mutants aren’t allowed at the bar,” the innkeeper barked, seeing him sitting there drinking out of one of her good mugs, Hajime’s eyes, one green and one a crimson red, turning to meet hers. Kirumi, who was nothing but cordial to everyone else, hospitable even to the point she would bend over backwards, spat, “I’m being nice by letting you have a room but don’t go thinking you can just do whatever you want. There’s a reason you’re getting the attic, mutant.” 

Rantaro frowned hearing that. “I told him it was fine, Kirumi. I mean just look at him! He's clearly been beaten up. You should hear what--” 

“Rantaro, I know you have an affinity for the strange and _evil_ but I’ll hear no more about it. Show him to his room before I change my mind on letting him stay at all then come back down here because I want to have a long talk with you,” Kirumi said with her arms crossed and with a scowl she kept mainly directed at Hajime, switching it to her barkeep halfway through her rant. She had her reasons for being cold to monsters, having lost her parents to one, not trusting any of them-- even the self-hating 'mostly human' ones like Hajime. Let them kill themselves off until they’re all extinct, she hoped.

Rantaro winced hearing her tone knowing he was in for it when he got back. “Okay.” Grabbing the dingy keys off their post he turned to the monster hunter and said, “It’s just this way.” 

Hajime stood off the barstool using more of his unnatural strength than necessary to get up, the feet of the chair screeching against the hardwood scratching it all to hell and back, purposefully scuffing up the floors with a devilish smirk, his eyes taunting. He could feel the other guests glaring at him with his back turned. “Thanks for your hospitality, Ms. Tojo. You’ve been a _big_ help.” 

“Fucking freak,” Kirumi grumbled before she rolled her eyes and took off to the other side to resume sweeping up the food left behind by her latest patrons. 

Rantaro sighed under his breath, wishing he could help the guy out more. Hajime was still human after all-- mutated or not he wasn't a monster. He was something entirely different and alone in this. But saying too much could get him killed if it was heard by the wrong person. Just once is all it’d take. Instead he silently led Hajime past the people drinking ale and laughing, staying warm near the indoor fire set up in the center of the room, Kaede, the beautiful blonde and the town’s lovely bard, performing one of the oldest songs known to mankind: the ballad of the snow dragon. He smiled hearing it, imagining the kind of magical experience it would be to actually witness something like that-- a creature capable of shifting forms between both human and winged beast. 

Hajime heard the song and thought quite the opposite-- rolling his eyes at the cheers she got as she sang about the dragon prince returning, born anew every lifetime to lead the world of dragonborns into a new era-- a dragon's era. Ridiculous. Hajime had seen witches try to bring someone back to life and knew it was impossible. Up the stairs, Hajime watched as Rantaro unlocked the attic but the door jammed and he had to shoulder it to get it fully open, a cloud of dust greeting them making him cough and shield his face, Hajime not so much as blinking at the particles, his eyes shielded with a protective layer. He wondered what it would feel like, to experience pain from something so small, so minuscule as dirt in one’s eyes. It was almost boring, how much it took to hurt him. 

“Sorry it’s so…” Rantaro grimaced seeing how cramped it was, his feet accidentally knocking into the cot laid down after they crawled inside. “Small.” 

“It doesn’t bother me,” Hajime said honestly. A bed was a bed. “Thanks, Rantaro.” 

Rantaro beamed and said, “Just let me know if you need anything else. I’ll bring you up some of our leftover bread when Kirumi isn’t looking like last time.” He stalled, hearing Hajime grunt as a response, his curiosities eating at him. The hope could be heard in his voice as he asked, “Can… Can you tell me about your next adventure when you come through again?” 

Hajime snickered, shaking his head but he said, “Sure thing.” His eyes flickered in between Rantaro and the door exhaustion settling on him. “I got an early morning so…” 

“Oh! R-Right.” Rantaro smiled sheepishly rubbing his neck, his pastel green hair hiding his equally green eyes. “See you later, Hajime.” 

“See you,” Hajime said with a half-assed wave kicking off his shoes and setting both the decapitated head in it’s durable brown sack down alongside his small bag of belongings. He had his back turned to him, moving to undo the many buttons on his torn shirt hearing the door shut behind him as Rantaro left the tiny space, the wall’s all reachable at once waving with light seemingly in beat with the music he could still hear from downstairs, shades of orange and yellow dancing below and above him from the single candle on the floor. He tossed his grimy clothes he’d discard soon enough in a trash bin when he left, planning to take an actual bath the next day. He didn’t have payment from this job yet so he’d have to wait until he dropped ‘Celestia’s’ head off at this employer’s door before he could afford to stay at an inn with a bathhouse. The river could suffice for now, and he knew there’d be one on the way. 

Sighing Hajime pulled the blankets over his head recalling some of the nastier things he’d heard from people passing him by as he rode horseback into town, everyone seeming to have an opinion on whether he counted as a monster or not, before he smiled recalling how Rantaro’s eyes had lit up hearing his story. He was something, that Rantaro. One of the kindest humans he’d got to meet. Hajime’s relationship with people was usually ‘I have a job/pest I need you to get rid of’ and Hajime’s ‘For the coin, I’m your man.’ It was simple. Life was simple. Apart from being ostracized as some lesser being, spat on and hated, and gutting monsters coming close to death every day, of course. He hated what he was but he’d never tell anyone that. Feelings like that were better left bottled up and ignored. And what better way to use this aggression and superhuman strength than to rid the world of its bothersome beasts? 

With his highly perceptive ears Hajime could hear the song still being sung downstairs: the ballad of the snow dragon. For a moment, he almost wished dragons hadn’t gone extinct a thousand years ago, said to have never truly existed by most, but not so that he could witness one in admiration like Rantaro. No, if the snow dragon was real Hajime would cut off it’s head. What a lovely mount that would make! If any of the old stories were true then all of them deserved to be dead. And being the disgusting mutant he was, he could think of no one better to rid the world of the oldest mythical creature known to mankind. When his eyes opened after a few hours of restless sleep it wasn’t because it was time to wake up. Instead of soft music he heard people screaming and instead of buttered bread and the subtle hint of birch his nostrils picked up on the scent he’d never misplace having dealt with it in many a fight: fire. 

  
  


(Three Hours Earlier) 

“A virgin’s spit, a horse’s heart, and…” Gundham stopped mid sentence, blinking dumbly, and turned back to the stand with his spell book atop it flipping through the pages. 

“Nyeh, the next ingredient is the soil of sacred land,” Himiko, the red-haired mage said as she yawned leaning against the tree, her dark-haired human girlfriend in the clearing nearby with her sword out just waiting for a threat to make itself known. She'd make sure no one could interrupt their ritual-- that no one could disturb the boy frozen in time sleeping within the center of the pentagram Gundham and Himiko had drawn out with oil, begging to be lit to bring light to these dark woods. She bobbed her head to the side with a small smile, her pointy black hat she wore to match her short dress and shoes shifting with the motion. “I thought you said you were an expert at this, Gundham.” 

“I-I am!” The warlock cladded in blacks and purples argued in a huff, lying to keep appearances since this was his first time doing something at this caliber but he was her teacher after all so he had to keep up the act, his ashen cheeks tinting pink and his black and white hair falling out of place behind his ear. “So the soil of sacred land, it is to be! Then the hair from the dead, and lastly…” He put them into the cauldron before moving to take a strand of silky off-white blonde hair from the boy and pricked his finger getting the blood on his dagger before directing Himiko that it was time with a nod. As she struck the fire with a snap of her fingers he said, “The blood of the dead!” Tossing the hair and the drop of blood into the mix he threw out his arms. “Now chant with me, young mage!” 

Himiko grinned, beyond excited to do this-- to be doing something at _this_ level. “Right!” 

And then began their chanting of a spell as old as time itself, older than even the ballads were, speaking in a language neither of them knew in full since even the oldest of texts didn’t date back that far. The fire danced in rhythm with their words, rising higher the louder they got, their desperation showing through in their voices that soon began to crack and break the longer they went on chanting. Seconds turned into minutes which turned into two hours. Himiko, whose throat had started to burn, felt her hands and knees trembling, the spell taking a hold on her being out of her jurisdiction, a trail of blood going down one of her nostrils and Gundham looked to her with concern for but a fraction of a second since she nodded to let him know to continue so neither of them stopped. The fire rose to the point it reached the leaves of the trees hanging around them, the blood moon shining on them from the center of the small clearing, yet it didn’t burn outside of it’s pentagram. Flames went out in a blink and Himiko fell out in a heap exhausted, Tenko running to help her, yelling at the dark lord for overworking her but Gundham’s attention was on someone else. The boy in the center. 

The pale blonde boy gasped and his silvery green eyes shot wide open, living between the past and present, seeing the world as much larger than it had just been, recalling the last of his memories and going on the attack, moving to scream at her to kill the evil witch with a burst of flame from his throat-- a natural instinct. But she wasn't standing there. She was now a him and the sunlight that had been hugging his scales, which was now skin, was gone as darkness surrounded him. Instead of fire a weak croak left his lips. He was human. He was human and vulnerable. Frightened eyes upturned to the witch, a far different one than the last he’d dealt with before he went into a deep sleep, unaware he'd been asleep at all, and this witch was wearing a smile. “Who… Who are you?” 

“My name is Gundham Tanaka and these are my friends. They helped me wake you up from eternal slumber. We mean you no harm, I promise.” Gundham knelt in front of him and held out his bare hands to show that he was unarmed. Besides his magic of course but he had no intentions on hurting this boy-- the boy he believed the legends said would cause a rift in between monsters and humans. He just hoped it’d be a positive rift since as of right now they were hunted down like animals. “Welcome back to the land of the living, dragon prince. Can I call you by any other name?” 

The snow dragon swallowed and wrapped his arms around himself wishing he could shift into his truest form and run but alas he was too weak. “Nagito… My name is Nagito Komaeda.” 


	2. The Soul Bonded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime takes on a big threat and gets a terrible thanks for it.  
> Nagito teases the people who saved him and quietly reflects.

Hajime had his good set of black pants and shirt on and his weaponry strapped to him ready in seconds, leaving Celestia’s decapitated head in it's sack in the corner for the time being not needing the quite literal dead weight. He unlatched the door swinging it open easily after it jammed again and he hopped through landing on his feet at the bottom of the ladder, the scent of burning wood and soot even stronger down here, overpowering any hint of the freshly baked bread from the kitchen. He loved that smell, the scent of bagels and when they sliced the cheese to top them it just added to the sweet aroma bringing him a sense of comfort when going to sleep, how he imagined a warm hug to feel like never having one himself that he could remember. Hajime expected the fire to be coming from within the inn but it was on the outskirts of it alongside all the other homes and businesses, a stream of flames hitting the streets with an ear-piercing screech and just then another screech sounded further up sending chills up Hajime’s spine. Hajime knew what sound every monster made, having tortured and butchered every which kind. Yet he’d never heard anything like this. 

Kirumi was at him clamoring and grabbing at his wrist to which he scowled, her silver hair up in a bun she wore to bed, her floor length satin pajamas still on. “You have to do something!” 

Hajime gawked at her almost not recognizing her behind the panic before jerking his arm back with a huff. “I don’t have to do shit.” 

“I’ll pay you! Pl-Please! They’ll burn it all down and hurt them! Please do something,” Kirumi begged, dropping to her knees not caring in the slightest if he was a monster right now. 

“What is--” Hajime started before he was interrupted by the normally laid-back barkeep who’d ran back inside to divulge what he’d found out in his investigation. 

“Y-You’re never going to believe this…” Rantaro’s face had paled to a sickly white and he looked anything but awed as he said, “It’s dragons.” 

Hajime guffawed and shook his head, not believing his highly perceptive ears for once. “Did you just say--” 

“Dragons, Hajime. I-It’s dragons!” Tears streaming down his face, Rantaro pulled at his green hair remembering seeing the neighborhood blacksmith, the most upbeat of guys and one of his favorite patrons to visit the inn, Nekomaru Nidai, burned alive and killed within painfully long seconds. The stench would never leave his nostrils, a scent that unlike Hajime he was nowhere near used to. “Someone took them-- people I…” He couldn’t finish as a soft sob left his lips reliving the traumatizing moments but it didn’t matter if he did because the hunter was already out the door. 

Coming outside Hajime narrowly missed getting hit by another stream of fire crashing down the street, destroying the stone walkways, the heat coming off it enough to burn the normal person. It sizzled against the edges of his _good_ pants and he hissed before shooting his eyes up to where the attack had come from, them widening actually seeing the beast. He’d seen it all: vampires, werewolves, mermaids, witches-- they were nothing to deal with for the most part. Celestia had been the closest to killing him since the werewolf and he’d been fifteen when he’d taken on that fight-- a good ten years in between them. Apart from when his father had turned him into a mutant, forcing him into that god awful chair, he’d never felt cold fear running through him like he did seeing this.

The wings of the first dragon spanned out a full house length while the other, although smaller, still encompassed enough space to kill someone just by hitting them with their wing alone; the smaller one had an ivory green coating over its scales while the larger was a pale yellow with specs of shimmering pinks and purples. The sound, Hajime realized that he hadn’t recognized before, was their screeching as they breathed fire. They were both terrifying and yet so beautiful. It almost seemed like a shame to kill them since here they were reborn after a thousand years. Perhaps if they weren’t torching the city he’d find compassion within himself to have mercy. But they did no such thing so neither would he. He could sit here and gape at the creatures all day but that would do nothing.

Unsheathing his sword worn by a decade of bloody fights, Hajime ran along the path connecting a line of fire to the beast’s throat, side-stepping every blast, easily keeping up as the two dragons flew overhead focusing on the green one since it seemed to want to do the most damage, the larger dragon flying on ahead and out of the city before he could have a chance to stop it. Shit! Well, he’d make sure this one didn’t get away! It lowered itself and he groaned still not within the strike range even as he climbed up and skidded over rooftops. Looks like he’s going back to the basics for this fucker.

As he ran and jumped, Hajime put away his sword, instead pulling out his most trusted bow and arrow, the beige and green one he'd had made in one of his favorite cities that smelled like cinnamon, this weapon usually used on witches from a distance. He aimed it straight for the dragon’s eye, noticing the red of its irises reminding him of his own for but a split second before he shot. It would’ve hit too had the beast not done a nose dive turn, his wing blocking the arrow fast. Okay. Intelligent. Duly noted. Hajime picked up the pace, waiting for an opening to hop up on it’s back when he could see it starting to leave the city too. Oh no you don’t! With as much gusto as he could muster he leaped off the rooftop and landed on its tail, waving back and forth as it started flying higher and higher. 

With the wind slapping his face, his eyes staying open to focus, Hajime clung tighter, digging his nails into its scales and he could hear the creature roar feeling it. He doubted a normal human could so much as leave a dent. It flew ever higher, dangerously high at this altitude even for Hajime, and the monster hunter had to take bated breaths as he pulled himself up the length of the tail fighting not to let go as it thrashed left and right, up and down. There was no backing down at this point-- it was either ride the dragon or die. And as much as Hajime disliked himself he disliked dying more. 

After painfully slowly yet at record speed climbing up the tail and onto the backend of the dragon Hajime could tell he’d frightened the beast, it’s movements becoming even more frantic turning back to the city trying its hardest to remove its unwanted passenger all while Hajime dug into ivory scales deeper, using his silver dagger, plunging it into the wedges of its scales to further himself up, using his arms and legs to steady himself, the dragon roaring in response to the pain, thrashing even harder. He didn’t know anything about killing a dragon-- never having studied up on it too much since it was a mute point; they were supposed to be extinct! But he knew a few things he’d picked up in books over the years. He knew their underbelly was a weak spot just like their eyes and throat were. 

And since it was less likely he’d ever get the underbelly from up here he had to aim for what he could get to at this altitude-- first the eyes. Then he could possibly get it to land in a state of panic and aim for it’s throat while it was weak-- it’d be easy! Boring almost. He got all the way up to the head and went to stab it’s eye when it turned over and flew straight for the ground, his dagger flying out of his hand with a grunt, falling to the ground below, the townspeople all watching in horror gasping and pointing, some of them even feeling bad for the mutant for a change though most of them would deny it. They didn’t scatter until the dragon was upon them again landing where it had been ushering out a stream of flames, tossing its head back actually knocking Hajime off this time. 

Hajime was quick to get back on his feet, jumping up from his back with a hiss, turning an animalistic snarl on the creature as it did the same to him, menacing eyes locking with one another’s then like a light switch went off the dragon blinked and it’s deep-throated growl stopped vibrating the ground below them, the threat falling flat fast. Hajime felt his own face shift from anger into something resembling awe, a silent communication of a language he did not know running between them; understanding. He felt like he was outside of his own body as he smiled and dropped his sword, people watching from the safety of their homes screaming at him to pick it back up, but he couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear anything except the soft whisper of a song he didn’t know the words to. 

Stepping up to the beast there was no fear or aggression coming from either of them, especially not the winged beast who was waiting with a silent plea in its eyes. Nor any anger, instead just an overwhelmingly strong sense of something Hajime didn’t comprehend, not having a word for it yet. Setting his hand in between the tuft of its eyes he watched the dragon’s vivid red eyes close and like wind brushing up against him he felt it, the sensation of a whooshing energy shifting from the creature and coming into him fast, the air around them lighter as he did it. The dragon’s image slowly disappeared from reality transitioning into something else entirely, his hand now placed upon the forehead of a delirious human child, slumping forward in a heap in his arms that caught her fast. 

“Mon… Monaca!” A woman screamed, running out of the house to go fetch her daughter whose back was bleeding, turning a hateful glare on the hunter. “What did you do to her!?”

Hajime’s eyes that had glazed over with a fog tore themselves from where the dragon had just been to focus on her, his head still spinning. “Huh?” 

“Y-Y-You did something to my baby! You turned her into that… that foul _beast!_ And you stabbed her repeatedly! Just look at what you’ve done to my daughter!" She aimed a finger at him, using her other arm to hold her daughter closer, a whine escaping the green-haired child's lips when she touched too close to the wounds, muttering to herself and to Hajime. “We saw you! We saw you do it!” 

“I…” Hajime couldn’t deny he’d been a part of something strange dealing with magic. He knew he looked guilty. “I don’t know what happened, Ms. Towa, but I can assure you--” 

“Get out!” One of the men who’d been cowering behind his pawn shop yelled out with a fist raised. “No one cares about your excuses! GET OUT!”

“Yeah, get the hell out of here! No one wants you here, you freak of nature!” A different woman screamed out spitting at the ground he’d walked on, he recognized her as the boutique's owner. 

“Wherever you go hell is sure to follow, mutant. Take it somewhere else!” Another man argued, taking his tray of biscuits from the day before and throwing them at him. 

A domino effect began, people all yelling out what they really thought of the monster hunter, throwing out any food they had at him, blaming him for this. 

Hajime’s eyes, one green and one red marking him as something different, something 'evil,' turned up to search the angry mob for his one friend here wanting his opinion.

Even Rantaro couldn’t look directly at him, scrunching up his face and crossing his arms as conflicting thoughts fought each other in his head knowing what he’d seen. 

Hajime nodded, a devilish smirk lifting his features like he enjoyed this. “It was getting boring here anyway!” With that he stepped over to where his dagger had fallen and pocketed old faithful, grabbing his sword too, the food and insults being thrown at him a blur of muffled voices in his ear-- he’d heard it all before. He walked up to the inn Kirumi blocked off with her back. “That payment?” 

Kirumi shook her head with a scoff. “I said to kill it. You did no such thing. I don’t know what you did, freak, but that wasn’t it--”

“You’d rather I kill a child?” Hajime asked, disbelief coating his voice, a hand raising to his chest to feign surprise, being a sarcastic asshole because he knew he was good at being one. 

Kirumi’s eyes widened and she blushed at the implication. “A-Absolutely not! You did some sorcery and saved the dragon by replacing it with her! Don’t speak as if she _was_ the dragon!”

“Whatever, I don’t care if she is or isn’t the dragon. Your beasts are your own to deal with. I figured you’d skip out on the payment but just remember that when you have another werewolf wreaking havoc-- I don’t work for penny pinchers twice.” Hajime kept his smile on as he said, “I just need to grab my stuff and I’ll be out of your hair!” He moved to step past her when she blocked it off again and he gave her a threatening look in return, the humor in his features falling flat. This was his money she was messing with. “Unless you want to let a vampire’s head rot in your attic I’d step aside.” 

“A…” Kirumi quickly stood back then, her disgust plainly visible. “Ju-Just get it and get the hell out of here. Don’t bring that stuff into people’s inns!”

“Thanks, Ms. Tojo. Again, you’ve been a _big_ help,” Hajime spat sardonically with a toss of his eyes before he set up to the attic and grabbed his stuff.

After he fed a few sugar cubes to and saddled up his horse, whistling as he tossed the brown sack he’d need for payment over the side of it, Hajime strode out of the town knowing he probably wouldn’t be welcome back here anytime soon, not even by the curious Rantaro. Not like he was all that welcome to begin with. With the sound of clacking hooves against asphalt in his ears, and the warm summer breeze settling into his skin as the sun slowly began to rise overhead, Hajime's mind was a whirlwind reliving the entire experience twice over. For a moment he'd actually felt alive, when he could plummet to his death at any second it sent a wonderful jolt through him and even though the event was heavy on his mind, his heart felt a lot freer and he couldn’t stop the huge smile that lifted his lips remembering how it felt to have freed the child. That’s what he’d done, right? Freed the child from the beasts hold? He didn’t know or understand what had happened to him or why he’d loved it but he was sure of one thing-- it was time to actually brief himself on the lore of dragons. It was time to learn how to properly kill a dragon and if that was actually what he’d just done. 

  
  


Nagito sat in the back of the wagon nibbling on a cheese bagel and sipping on the water he’d been given and trying -- _trying--_ to ignore the constant stares he was getting from the two girls smiling with their hands interlocked, the red-head having woken up a few minutes after her spell. Nagito deadpanned the floor in frustration since none of these people had the answers to his biggest questions: What happened to Chiaki? What of the black witch Junko? Is she sill alive through spell work or did someone end her evil reign? How many years _in total_ had it been? He’d had a near melt-down finding out he’d been essentially killed in it’s most final form for him; when Junko had put him in an eternal rest he was in between life and death for centuries. 

And if he didn’t actually die he couldn’t be reborn, nor could any of the other dragons. The dragon’s blood lineage would carry on without any of the abilities leaving them blind to the truth. And if he wasn’t awake then all of their powers had been put to sleep with him. Chiaki… Sweet, beautiful Chiaki had been left to fend for herself without being able to shift. His downfall had killed her, he just knew it. Even without any of that her lifetime would be well over spent if it was true what these people told him. He had to fight back tears cursing himself inwardly for slipping up during his fight against Junko. Worthless garbage. He was worthless garbage and the worst of any of his reincarnations, he just knew it. He didn’t have to address the spirits to know it. 

“So… what all can dragons do?” Tenko asked, the rare type of human to not only be a sympathizer but a supporter as well-- even for the males who she usually hated as humans. 

Nagito turned his eyes from his snack to her and offered a fake smile large enough to believe he was serious as he said, “Why just about whatever you can do!”

Himiko giggled at her girlfriend’s dumfounded face hearing that, not understanding his joke, and she asked, “What can _only_ dragons do? Any special powers?” 

“I know, I was teasing her. People do still jest in this time period, correct?” Nagito’s lips pulled up into a smirk. “Or am I just being an old-timer?” 

“Old-timer?” Tenko gawked at him before she guffawed, throwing out her arms in exasperation. “You look like you're in your twenties! I wouldn’t say you’re an old-timer.” 

“Yes, true enough, but even though I was frozen at twenty-five that does not mean I’m not still over a century year old.” Nagito winked at her, his spirits livening up a little bit. Better that than to throw himself a pity party. Though he had to try very hard not to throw that pity party-- the idea of badmouthing himself to these people coming to mind as it often did in the past regarding all of his shortcomings. But who were these people to hear his stories? Were they any worthier than he was? Perhaps the witch but the human was just a shield to her. That's what their relationship was built upon. Right? “To answer your earlier question, I can take on the form of both human and dragon. I can breathe both fire and ice-- that’s how I got my name since I’m the only one who can breathe ice. I look different in every lifetime but this form fits the name quite nicely. I can also give and take a dragon’s soul energy if I see fit-- disparaging them of the skill. I can and my dragonborn can.” 

“Your dragonborn?” Himiko asked, tilting her head, her hat bobbing with the motion.

Gundham, who was steering the horse back towards his castle and wife, answered, “That’s his army born of dragon blood.” 

“Wrong,” Nagito said in a curt laugh, enjoying how confident Gundham had been about his lie. 

“B-But the dark texts all said--” Gundham sputtered, looking over his shoulder at the opening in the curtain shielding them. 

“The texts are all wrong!” Nagito chuckled, imagining a plethora of dragonborns at his beck and call. He’d either be in heaven or lose his mind. Probably both. “Those are just dragons you're thinking of-- every dragon can shift forms between human and dragon. My dragonborn is a one of a kind, however. A rare jewel whose soul is so pure I'd have no other. She comes back to me in some form or other, our souls destined to meet in each lifetime.” He glanced out the window and frowned remembering Chiaki, her love lost to him far too early, out there having lived centuries without him to find her. Had she been lonely? It’s probably been too long for her to remember even with spirit guidance. His voice lowered as he said, “We’re soul bonded and we are nothing when without the other.”

Himiko didn’t pick up on the depressing mood and sighed dreamily imagining her and Tenko being soul bonded. “Like soulmates. That’s so romantic!”

“Yes,” Nagito whispered, a deep pang in his stomach because he couldn’t sense her like he used to. He couldn’t feel the unbreakable bond tethering him to her in spirit anymore. Was he truly just tired and that was why he couldn’t shift into his dragon form? Or was it the dreadful alternative and she was either asleep like he'd just been, somewhere in an even more remote place that even Gundham the dark sorcerer couldn't find, or was she… His heart crumbled within his chest imagining he’d already missed out on this lifetime of hers and the slot was just left vacate until his next. What if he’d been too late yet again? Why else wouldn’t he be able to instinctively find her? With the sound of clacking hooves against asphalt in his ears and the warm summer breeze wafting in through the curtain, the sun shining on his face overhead, Nagito's mind was a whirlwind of half-baked hope, an emptiness needing to be filled in his heart. He frowned as he halfway agreed, “It’s terribly romantic.”


	3. Crossing Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime crosses paths with the Jarl of Ice, something hidden within his carriage he grows curious of, and Nagito learns the hunters name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been a tad slow about getting to them actually meeting but baby steps baby steps! :D 
> 
> Also I use some of the cities names from Skyrim but the map isn't exactly like the actual game-- just using them for inspo mostly.

After a three hour ride further up, Hajime stopped, letting his horse, Usami, rest by the bank of the forest, birds chirping overhead. Removing his dark partly-scorched pants and shirt, he hung them by the tree limbs since they were his last semi-good clothes with him. Standing next to the river, hidden from the trail by a half mile, he kept his ears perked listening for any wild boars knowing they’d seek out truffles in murky wooded areas like this. The river wasn’t all brown with dismantled clay, the water smashing against the rocks making for natural cold jets, a wonderful place for the hunter to sink down into to relax and clean his body of all the grime, blood, debri, and soot from not only his fight against the highly skilled and intelligent vampire but against the dragon who he’d bet a sack of gold was that child in another form. But that sounded crazy. Even to him. Only the fabled snow dragon could do that-- right? He let his mind wander, reliving the strange experience, the thrill of both flying and absorbing whatever energy that came off the beast  _ possibly _ killing it. Miraculous!  It had not been boring at all. And that was a rarity for the monster hunter.

It was like taking the first breath of fresh air Hajime had had since… well, since he was a normal child himself.  His attention was stolen away from the depths of his ponderings when he heard hooves clopping in the distance, crunching of leaves and sticks as the wagon passed by. He sunk deeper into the water, keeping his eyes and ears above it, remaining hidden mostly by the trees and the moss-filled earth and rocks that had just been giving him a pleasant scent to enjoy, that atop the subtle smell of lavender flowers in a patch nearby, honeysuckles falling from their brush and into the river as the warm summer wind blew. Why the hell was anyone using this trail? Sure, it was on the map and anyone  _ could _ use it but most didn’t. Wild boars weren’t the only beasts lurking in these woods, after all. And although he, a hunter, had no problem taking on predators that came at him he knew most preferred the other, much more convenient though heavily trafficked to his great distaste, route. The only types of people who used this road were either his enemy or just like him-- monsters or outcasts. That, and the third most likely option-- criminals on the run. 

His curiosities eating at him, Hajime slowly moved out of the water, hardly making a ripple as he got out before quickly yet stealthily putting his clothes on, the fabric sticking to his wet skin like glue, his brown hair dripping and hugging the nape of his neck and forehead. He sidestepped Usami still tied up, hearing her neigh softly seeing him with his hunched posture and he shook his head at her trying to silently communicate with the one beast he’d call a friend. She didn’t talk. And he liked that. Patting her side to let her know it was fine he took old faithful out of his satchel and stepped through the woods, much faster than any normal human could, his breathing slowed down to remain silent and to prepare himself in case he’d need to keep stamina up if it was either his enemy or a criminal-- he preferred cutting off monsters heads but coin was coin and he wasn’t too good to snub his nose at a bounty. When he was close enough to actually see the wagon he noticed it covered in a dark curtain. That could block out sunlight. Might be a vampire shielded behind it, their brainwashed human driving them. His back straightened then, recognizing the voice of the jarl speaking about his hold. He’d know that voice anywhere, having been chewed out by him a time or two. He disliked Hajime more than most-- though his reasons were muddled. 

Hajime pocketed his silver knife and sighed, disappointed that he hadn't got to make an easy coin knowing that no one was out here looking for the jarl of Winterhold. He considered not approaching them at all, staying to himself as usual, and letting Gundham go on his merry way down the path, but then he heard another voice behind the curtain, a breathy one that had an air of confidence to it, the sound of it making a shiver run down his spine and a gasp catch in his throat-- his steady breathing now ragged. He did not like the feeling that came along with hearing it at all, something innate pulling at him to hear it again. The monster hunter didn’t understand why he cared, the jarl was allowed to travel with any friend he liked and it was no business to Hajime. And yet… his feet carried himself up the hill before his mind could stop them. Coming to a stop in front of the wagon, he watched Gundham’s eyes shoot wide open before narrowing on him, one hand closing the curtain the rest of the way fast, an order to remove himself from the path on his tongue, but the monster hunter had a question on his own-- speaking faster than the other man could. 

“Why are you out here, Jarl Tanaka? It’s dangerous in these woods." Hajime pointed out: "Especially in a wagon like this and without your guards. You catch a criminal yourself or…?” 

Hajime sounded nosier than he usually would, and he couldn’t deny himself that he was being just that. Sure, he was a smartass and bitter but he didn’t care about other people’s lives-- especially not hoity toity jarls with a sizable holdfast. Why would Hajime care when they’d never cared about him? He’d never exchanged pleasantries with Gundham before or asked him about his work. Hell, Gundham was the only jarl left he’d yet to be sought out by to handle any monsters that needed wrangling. His hold had yet to have an attack which was bizarre considering where it was and its size, those frozen walls must really be something if it had truly never been breached. He'd seen it from the outside but never been in. Then his face showed through to understanding, suspecting a housecarl hidden behind that thick curtain of black. That’s probably the voice he’d heard before. Gundham was quite the character and absolutely the type to want to appear alone just for a show of bravery. 

“You’re heading towards Helgen, aren’t you?” Hajime asked before he could respond and shook his head with a curt laugh. "Word gets out fast!" 

“Yes.” Gundham kept his voice even before he swallowed, his hands tightening on the reigns making his knuckles go an even ashier white, hoping and praying to all the gods including the great Atua that Nagito wouldn’t grow curious enough about the interruption to peek out through the curtain to see him or come out, hoping he wouldn’t say a word that he knew could be heard from a half-mile away by the monster hunter. He had no idea what happened in Helgen but, like with Himiko during their ritual, he had to save face and play the role. “I am heading that way before I take the twisted streets home. My my,  _ half-breed,  _ you’re being awfully chatty today. Care to divulge your experience in Helgen so that I might indulge myself with the knowledge of your specimen?” 

Half-breed. Right. Hajime had almost forgotten he called him that. At least he considered him halfway human. Most didn't want to admit that.

“Well…” Hajime suddenly regretted coming to the wagon now. Although he hadn’t  _ hated _ what happened in Helgen-- excluding the angry mob of course but that was just a part of the job it seemed-- but he didn’t want all the jarls talking about him 'turning a dragon into a human child' by evening. It was bad for work, and he wanted to be called to slay these beasts more now than ever. Brevity was the word of the wit. “I was there for the attack. There were two of ‘em there, one… something strange happened that I can’t explain outside of the supernatural. Possibly the dragon’s ability but--” 

“Dragon?” Gundham’s eyes lit up, a small smirk daring to pull at his pale lips. “They’ve truly awoken then?” 

“Um, yeah, I guess you could say that." Hajime scrunched up his brows, hearing what almost sounded like excitement in the other man’s voice. Another monster sympathizer? Or was the self-proclaimed 'Jarl of Ice' just fascinated by the supernatural like Rantaro was? The second seemed most likely with Gundham. "Why do you say it like that? Did you know they would? Do you know a lot about dragons, Jarl Tanaka?” And he was back to being glad he’d stopped to force small talk with him, unable to stop the smile that broke out across his face thinking he did. He still needed to drop off Celestia’s head but he wasn’t tied up with another job yet-- he could use this time for research. If there were more dragons out there he’d probably have jobs offered to him left and right. 

“A-Ah, a tad, I’ve studied them just like the other creatures… for the safety of my people,” Gundham said, not explicitly specifying  _ which _ people. 

“Oh yeah,” Hajime said, wagging a finger at the man most people knelt to when in his presence. Hajime would never kneel for anyone-- jarl or not. If he wasn’t truly human or monster then he didn’t think he should have to bend the knee for either. It's not like they showed him the same type of respect they offered to the rest of the populace of Skyrim including their fellow jarls. You got what you gave, the monster hunter thought. “I remember Jarl Togami mentioning you had a study matching his in size yet yours was…” Clearing his throat roughly with a chuckle he finished, “Different.” 

Hajime remembered Byakuya curling up his nose discussing the type of text books Gundham preferred to keep as opposed to ‘genuine literature.’ They’d had the conversation over a witches head he'd brought to him, the other throwing a bag of coin at his feet seeing the job completed not wanting to touch the foul man. Not that either were aware the spell books were usable by Jarl Tanaka himself, completely unaware of his true nature. Witches, unlike vampires whose red irises gave them away alongside the aura hanging off them, surrounding all monsters to Hajime’s red eye, could blend in near perfectly with humans. Frighteningly so. The mutant wondered what it’d be like-- to have his abilities and yet remain in the shadows with his truth; camouflaged just as the witches did. Of course, all it took was one whiff of someone finding out the truth and the witch would either be hunted or burned at the stake with a gathering of townspeople to see them off into their afterlife: probably hell.

Gundham's eyes widened briefly flitting from the hunter to the curtain behind him when he heard someone fall within the carriage, Nagito's muffled words coming out when Tenko grabbed him and being weakened he didn't see what hit him. Hajime picked up on the ruckus too and the witch was quick to lie, “I was leaving Whiterun anyway when we got word so I'm bringing care packages for them. They’ve flown all about during this journey I almost wish I had taken the main road-- almost. But I am deeply afraid I prefer the solitude of a desolate trail, one that someone might cross paths with something interesting upon.” 

“Okay…” Hajime could basically feel the jarl’s nerves, his perceptive eyes spotting a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He slowly said, “I’ll let you get to it then.” 

With that the monster hunter got out of his way and started to return back to the woods to head for his horse, making it a few steps when he heard the breathy voice again, calling out to someone he did not know: Chiaki. It was the softest hint of a whisper in someone’s sleep. And the normal person would’ve never heard it from as far away as he did. And though Hajime did not know the name it strangely rang familiar making him stop short and turn to face the even paler faced Jarl Tanaka. He’d just pulled up the reigns to resume when Hajime ran back to him. He was hiding something big in that carriage, Hajime just knew it. And though it would do nothing but get him killed later to investigate it here on the spot he wanted to know what it was so he came up with a plan that would kill two birds with one stone. He’d figure out what the jarl who usually tried to evoke fear in others was so clearly afraid of him seeing, and he’d learn how to properly kill the dragons Gundham knew about. 

“Say, Jarl,” Hajime began with a cocky smirk blocking his path again, “You wouldn’t be hiding an abetted criminal in that carriage would you? Or a… monster?” 

Gundham’s eyes widened briefly before he scowled and spat, “Know your place, half-breed. What I do with my time is of no importance to you.” 

“My my, you’re awfully touchy today, ‘Jarl of Ice,’” Hajime taunted, throwing his own words at him through pearly white teeth, his lips curling with a full blown grin. 

The monster hunter didn’t know what had gotten into him today, his mood heightened significantly and at peak level, his energy at double what it had been just minutes ago. Gundham didn’t know what to make of him today either. He’d seen him laughing before, sure, mainly with pretty women at bars when passing through. Even if he was a freak of nature and most people hated him, Hajime was still a man with desires and he was in his prime; Some women loved that he was an outcast, fetishizing it in a way that would make him feel gross if he wasn’t using them for short gratification as well. He’d never taken a girl’s hand in  _ actual _ courtship. Why do that when there were brothels and ‘daring’ young women who lived for the thrill of spending a night with a one of a kind mutant? 

“Do you wish to die, half-breed, because your curiosities are surely to lend you a hand in granting it. I can appease your hearts desires and gut you where you stand and let the darkness consume you sending you to a world full of hellfire,” Gundham threatened, one of his hands leaving the reins, prepared to strike him down if it came to it. He’d have to go all in. It’d be a fight he couldn’t handle on his own, needing Himiko to jump in as well and even then the jarl knew he was likely to lose against the mutant. He just hoped his status and power was enough to keep Hajime's eyes to himself.

“No, I am just jesting you,” Hajime said, lying himself now. “I don't want to die but I do want to know if I could use that library of yours for a day or two.” 

Gundham’s eyebrows flew down and his voice lowered with genuine coldness. “No.” 

“I’ll work for you. Do a few jobs for free,” Hajime said, wishing he had some other services knowing the jarl he was talking to.

The witch had to hold himself back from scoffing and tossing his head back with a laugh at the idea of it. He was a monster himself after all. He repeated,  _ “No.” _

“It’s for Helgen,” Hajime said, partly truthfully. “I’m trying to study up on the dragons so I can find a way to stop them. They killed a few people last night. They got Nekomaru.” 

A gasp could be heard from within the carriage and Gundham’s face pinched up like he’d been caught in the act of something hearing Himiko react to the news of Nekomaru Nidai, a friend the two of them shared in common that was a hidden witch himself. Gundham just knew Nagito would soon be caught. Would the mutant be able to tell the dragon was different immediately? He’d heard rumors he could see it. Hajime noticed that a girl had gasped. And it wasn’t Sonia. Hajime’s facial features shifted with false understanding, his smiling eyes turning to the man who dressed himself rather eccentrically for a jarl-- more jewelry than most. A man and a woman roughing themselves up in the carriage he drove down a desolate road  _ without _ his wife? An affair was sure to be afoot. 

“Come on, Gundham...” Hajime used his first name casually as if they were friends and it did not settle well with the jarl who'd usually threaten to cut someone down for such defamation but the monster hunter was outside of all their touch, an equal agreement between all the jarls of Skyrim to not kill the mutated man since he did prove to be an excellent pest control. He'd come close to testing that agreement, including today. “That’s what you’re doing now right? ‘Helping out Helgen?’ Well, help me help you. And I’ll keep my mouth shut about what.... ever is going on here too.”

Gundham’s heart skidded in his chest imagining Sonia finding out about Nagito this way before he had a chance to fully explain the situation-- or for her to even question an affair of some sort. He was of course not having an affair but she’d begged him to let this dragon prince legend be testing their marriage greatly, her growing worried for his sanity overtime. He’d done research for years, having sent out men searching through tombs for the relic he’d need to open the door he’d known Nagito to be within, having translated the textbooks alongside a few other mages far more experienced than either he or Himiko. He’d told Sonia he’d stopped trying months ago. If she found out like this-- through the mouth of the monster hating  _ mutant _ … it could be the end of their marriage this time.

“Remember my kindness well for it shan't happen again. Your granted one night's stay in Winterhold and _no more_ ,“ Gundham barked getting a huge grin out of Hajime. 

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Jarl of Ice," Hajime said with a bow that was more of a show to mock him than a sign of respect, finally removing himself from the wagon's way. 

"Mm." Gundham threw the reigns with a grunt and they were off, the carriage going faster than usual as he fumed over being intellectually bested by a damn mutant. 

The sudden shift in speed rocked the people in the back waking Nagito who’d been knocked out previously, his vision clearing. Nagito lifted his head with a groan and scowled at Tenko, the woman who’d hit some sort of pressure point on his neck when he’d moved to look at the man speaking with the Jarl. “You could’ve just said to be quiet. I would’ve gathered he’s a hunter fast.” 

Nagito’s curiosities of said hunter had him going to the back of the wagon, careful to stay silent in case he could still hear them. He was glad to know the dragons had awoken, assuming that meant that his powers weren't entirely gone and he could soon enough shift form, but it frightened him as well, imagining them out there without any semblance of guidance and without him able to find them. He also wanted to know who held the rough voice of this hunter. He’d felt a similar shiver run up his spine to him, but unlike Hajime he’d loved the feeling relishing it. Nagito could almost believe he to be his soul bonded partner if it were not for the fact that he still didn’t feel a connection linking them. Which had never happened before so it couldn’t be... But his tie to the spirit world seemed to have been tampered with too, not hearing his past lives like usual. No way he’d come that close to  _ her _ and not know it. Even still… Nagito peaked a silvery green eye through the black of curtain to look and though he did not see his face, the man with dark ragged hair and a nicely built frame having his back turned as he stepped into the woods, he couldn’t help but feel like they should go back. 

“What did you say his name was?” Nagito kept one eye glued on him until he was out of sight and closed the curtain. “The hunter. The… what did you call him? Half-breed? What’s that?” 

“I never said his name,” Gundham answered, frustrated that he’d soon be entertaining the  _ monster killer  _ to a show of his hold-- his library. He didn’t care if he was half human, just that he was essentially half monster and used that power in a devious way, killing off both innocent alongside guilty beings. Celestia hadn’t been the one to bloodlet that family and the jarl knew that for a fact, having done a spell to discover the truth behind her bounty. She’d been nothing but cordial and polite every time he’d seen her, having restricted herself to an animal only diet. Even without the spell he knew she was innocent. “His name is Hajime Hinata. He’s a freak of nature and he’d kill you if he knew who you were and ever got the chance to. Probably hang you up on the wall with the others.” 

“Hang me up on the…” Nagito scrunched up his brows before he understood. Instead of seeming afraid he laughed unabashedly. “Oh, how exciting! A fight like that could be fun!” 

“Wh-What’s wrong with you?” Himiko blurted out, not enjoying his joke this time, still upset over Nekomaru. “W-We just brought you back to life… Don’t get yourself killed for ‘fun.’”

"Ah, either way I always have fun!" Nagito waved it off, his smile coming easier to him now, also feeling livelier than he had been just minutes before their stop.  After a few miles on the desolate trail, the sudden burst of energy slowly faded within him, going back to what he’d been like before: weakened. Leaning his head back Nagito sighed. _"Oh, Chiaki, I hope you don’t wring your hands in the blood of our kin for coin and yet I also both hope and fear for it to be you.”_ Nagito noticed the looks he got from them hearing him mumbling words to himself they didn’t understand, the language dating back to his first incarnation. Tongue only dragons could speak. He lied, “I said ‘I look forward to seeing your home, Gundham.’”  _ And I look forward to meeting you, Hajime Hinata, _ Nagito thought to himself wishing he could send the message out like he used to could with  _ her, _ his face brightening imagining that a whisper of the words got through to her. No. Not to her... To him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Nagito defy Gundham's wishes on the next chapter to go find out about this monster hunter?  
> And if he does and Hajime discovers the dragon prince's true nature and name... will he try to kill him?


	4. A Dream of Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many times can two people meet? Once? Twice? One is mean while the others nice!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this story has been pretty slow so far but its finally picking up-- this is the first chapter I really like lol  
> (I've been trying to get more into description settings and its hard/boring to me (def not my strong suit))  
> Anyways, now that a layout/ the main idea of the story is there or whatever I'm gonna get to the actually exciting parts now! :D

After a long day of riding north, each except the dragon prince taking turns at the reins, Nagito and his newfound friends came to a point where the small wagon had to be left behind because the frost on the ground made the wheels skid, Gundham deciding to get three more horses at the stables, easily forking out three bags of silver having more than enough coin for each to have their own. The roads were curvy and harsh and they avoided people as best they could before the riders finally made it into safe territory: Winterhold, the town atop a mountain shielded behind four walls of ice. 

Four sets of hooves sloshed through the snow leaving U shaped imprints as they passed the twenty foot tall gate, the dragon prince recalling when it was being built by a circle of witches long before Gundham or any of them were alive. Nagito had on a cape that concealed his features for his safety, an off-white one that swung to his boots matching his horse and the creamy tips of his hair, accentuating the baby blue of his ruffled shirt, his silver-kissed eyes nicely contrasting the gray of his pants. The other three riders accompanying him, including the jarl himself, wore capes as well but had them on for warmth but Nagito didn’t have much cause for concern there, his pale skin even when weak thick with a natural frost resistance. He was the ice-breathing snow dragon after all. 

The tour around the hold was nice and Nagito was able to keep up a performative smile through most of the afternoon, listening as Gundham gushed over the businesses there, helping him get new clothing more in style with what people wore nowadays which wasn't to the dragon prince's tastes though he accepted politely, Gundham's favorite shops belonging to witches using fronts such as ‘pawn shops’ while actually selling potions and charms secretly, a special term to use if you were a friend to their kind. Then he was escorted to his room on the east wing of the castle, Gundham not introducing him to his wife yet saying he wanted to learn more about Nagito before he concerned Sonia with ‘what ifs.’ Being forthright with his feelings had never been Gundham’s strong suit. 

It wasn’t until the door to his rather lavishly decorated room, adorned with blues, whites, and beige furniture, a bed that reached his hips in height, a closet large enough to fit all the clothes he'd just purchased and then some, was shut behind him and he heard Gundham's footsteps receding that Nagito's mask fell. He was completely and utterly alone now so he allowed himself to frown deeply, tears he’d fought to hold back in front of them resurfacing, his chest caving in with a harsh ragged breath that tasted like iron, his heart breaking as he mentally berated himself, his silent crying contorting his face into an abhorrent one; disgusting just like the rest of him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how much things had changed-- what the hell was plumbing? Bizarre was what it was! Forget all of that. Everyone he knew was dead. Dead! DEAD! He’d already lost his parents when he was young to a terrible accident, his bad luck befalling them and the prince blamed himself entirely. 

Nagito could put on a cocky façade all day, talk with an air of confidence that like the rest of him was wholly fake and adulterated, but he, much like Hajime, loathed himself to the core. He was truly the worst of all of his lifetimes and he knew that for a fact-- having spoken with his past versions of himself many times for guidance. What had he allowed to happen that severed the tie between him and them? Why couldn’t he talk to whoever Chiaki was now? He hoped it was that Hajime boy but at the same time he didn’t think it'd be that simple. Yet life seemed to work out like that for Nagito-- incredible luck one day then awful misfortune hitting him hard the next. He curled up on his bed and allowed himself the rest of the evening to unashamedly mourn his loved ones, tears continuously coming until he was painfully exhausted sniffling into his pillow, wishing he had Chiaki if not forever then for one more night to comfort him which was selfish, he knew. But he  _ hoped _ for it anyway _. _

  
  


Hajime found himself strangely overwhelmed that night, his day having gone exceedingly well, having twice as much coin in his pocket than he had that morning, and yet here he was with his chest caving in and his eyes clouding up out of nowhere. He sat up in his cot underneath the star-littered sky and shakily moved to touch his wet face not understanding what the hell was happening to him. Under the moonlight he saw fallen tears caught by his fingertips, confusion settling in him as his vision got foggier and a soft sob left his lips before he could stop it, making him jump up and grab his knife looking every which way fearing someone was  _ somehow _ doing this to him. A witch? That had to be it. Because why else would he, ‘a mutant incapable of feeling sad,’ be crying in the middle of the night? He tried to shake it off, just like he had the whisper of the words he’d randomly thought of after his encounter with Gundham.  _ ‘I both hope and fear it to be you.’ _ What is ‘it?’ Just... what?

Neither man got much sleep that night, but with the few hours they did get they were met with a strikingly similar dream. 

_ Hajime blinked large eyes and his heart leaped out of his chest seeing where he was: the earth far below him, the wind coming back and hitting his face as he soared above the snow-topped mountains, the clouds hugging his skin just like they did the sky, giant walls of ice coming into view. Winterhold. Without questioning  _ how _ he was flying, Hajime took a nosedive turn going to the city knowing that was where he was meant to go to find them. He had no idea who he was looking for but something deep within him, an intuitive inkling luring him out like a siren’s call, had him pushing to drop down.  _

_ The world shifted and Hajime was no longer landing in the courtyard, the scene switching to where he was in a library sifting through a bookcase, looking for something he didn’t know what, using one of the most impressive collections he’d ever seen. His hand stalled on the spine of one of the books and a gasp caught in his throat feeling a soft hand take his own halting his never ending search, their fingers interlocking before he could even turn to see who it was behind him. The voice in his ear and warm breath on his neck as a gentle kiss was placed there made his hair stand on end.  _

_ “So, I was right about you. I told you I’d always find you, didn’t I, my love?”  _ He _ lulled with a smirk and Hajime lurched back, the man’s posture shifting as he held up his hands in startled confusion. His face was a blur, a white aura surrounding him--  _ HIM-- _ his skin shimmering under the candlelight. An angel. He looked like an angel he wasn’t supposed to see. “Hajime? That is your name, isn’t it?”  _

_ “I…” Hajime took three steps back, not liking where this was going, not liking what his mind was doing right now. Too much stress. Had to be. “I’m not having this kinda dream with…”  _

_ “With what?” The angel asked, sounding humored and delighted like he hoped he was caught in the act of something devious. “Say it, dear. Say what I am. Tell me you know.”  _

_ “A man,” Hajime breathed out with his freckled cheeks flushing pink embarrassed to say it out loud, moving further away from him. “I-I don’t have these kinds of dreams with men.”  _

_ “All… right…” The angel said slowly, not expecting him to say  _ that _ at all. He took a step forward for Hajime’s backward. “So, it is not that I’m a ‘monster’ it’s that I’m male? Correct?”  _

_ “What?” Hajime’s eyes widened briefly before they narrowed on him, reaching for his hip to grab his silver knife but found himself weaponless. He forgot he was dreaming, feeling like he was truly there and with this figment of his imagination. To his credit, he could feel everything, his hand and neck still tingling with pleasant sensations of being touched by him. “You’re a monster? What kind?”  _

_ The man came at him fast wearing a grin Hajime could hardly see as he backed him up against the bookcase, not even having to touch him since Hajime was quick to move every time he took a step, Nagito wanting nothing more than to tease him for being silly. They were soul bonded-- sexuality wasn’t something that concerned their kind. How could it when they never knew what form they’d take in the next life? One life he was a man, the next a woman, then n/either. Laying his hands out flat on either side of the hunters head he got closer, just testing how bothered Hajime truly was by this form, by him being a man instead of a woman, his nose pressing against his and his parted lips brushing softly against the others and damn it if every atom in Hajime's body wasn’t set on fire at the smallest hint of a kiss, his heart erratic. He should push him away-- tell him to get lost and that he wasn’t one of  _ THOSE men. _ No way. He’s already a mutant freak. Being with men would be the end all. Yet he didn’t move an inch trying so hard to look past the blurry image and into the handsome face of the man blatantly coming onto him, in public no less. Hajime gulped loudly and blushed.  _

_ “What  _ kind _ of monster am I?” The way the stranger asked it sent another shiver over Hajime, a whisper of a laugh on Nagito's tongue as he cooed, “The same kind you are, my love.”  _

_ Thousands of unnatural thoughts popped into Hajime’s head hearing that unfairly attractive voice of his tickling his ears again, his heart pounding and his breathing ragged from the tension passing between them. His eyes darted from fuzzy orbs painted with grayish ivory shooting down to where he could just barely see lips curled up in a pearly smile, like he knew a secret Hajime didn’t but wanted to. The hunter side-glanced the door, somehow knowing they wouldn’t be interrupted. No one would know. And if they did what was the worst that could happen? A rumor mill that the mutant had dipped his feather in company ink? Why wasn’t he bothered that this man was a monster? Or a man? He had said he’s like him. Maybe he was also a mutant.  _

_ Atua above, Hajime didn’t know and he did not care. Not right now. He hated himself for it and questioned his morals and desires but he had to close the distance between them, unable to handle the drum roll in his chest any longer, the world shining brighter as their lips crashed against one another's desperately, everything in the library disappearing until it was only them, their arms wrapping around each other, roaming hands greedy, the monster hunter thrilled and not worried about what he was or if he’d bewitched him as he slammed the blonde against the bookcase to further deepen the kiss, Hajime’s mouth then moving to his neck, his body pinning him in place, one knee pressing into him only stopping once the stranger began chuckling.  _

_ “My my, I'd say you like my form, Hajime. You're brave, aren’t you? I like it,” Nagito teased with his chest rising and falling fast, his heart beating at a million miles a minute wondering if he realized what they were doing right now, or if he was even aware of their connection, bringing Hajime’s eyes back to his own as he asked, “Is this how you’re going to greet me in real life too? You should.”  _

_ “What?” Hajime blanched as the memory that this was just a dream hit him again. “Oh yeah. I forgot for a few seconds there. You’re not real so it doesn’t matter what we do.”  _

_ “What if I am real?” Nagito turned silvery green eyes up to gaze into one olive eye and one crimson, both equally blurry to him. “Would you still kiss me then, Hajime?”  _

_ “I... don’t know. You say you’re a monster,” Hajime whispered brushing through wild creamy white hair with his fingers, hating himself for hating that they weren’t still kissing but containing himself for a minute just to pretend he did exist. He kept forgetting it wasn’t real, wanting so badly for it to be happening yet at the same time the idea of it made him feel ashamed. “But not what kind.” _

_ “I’ll explain in person, Hajime. And you can tell me what they did to you...” Nagito cupped his fuzzy face, brushing his thumb just under his red eye with a frown imagining some dark magic afoot. He guessed that their link had been tampered with not by his own doing but by whoever had done this to the hunter. He could see him slowly starting to get blurrier as the seconds ticked by, knowing the spirit realm could only last so long to meet like this. He sighed and gave him one last soft kiss on his cheek before he whispered, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I miss you. Until tomorrow, my love.”  _

_ “Wait-- no don’t go! I don't even know your name!" Hajime yelled out seeing the apparition disappear then it was only a bookcase in front of him again. His shoulders slumped as his fingers trailed across the books he’d had the lovely stranger pressed up against, his voice low and full of a longing he didn’t like about himself, never having heard himself sound so sad as he repeated, “Don’t go…”  _

When Hajime’s eyes opened in real life he gaped at the sky and the first words out of his mouth were: “What. The. Fuck.” Scratching his head the hunter looked over at Usami who had lifted her head from grazing a nearby patch of grass to stare at him, her munching stopping to neigh hearing him stirring at the crack of dawn. He stretched and wagged a finger at the beast. “No more ale for either you or me, old girl. I think the devil’s juice is beginning to muddle my mind.” Another neigh and a throaty, strained chortle from him before the crunchy chews resumed, Usami back to nibbling at the earth, Hajime up and gathering all of his gear, the two already halfway to Winterhold now. Stress and ale was the reason. That’s it. He’d think no more of it. 

When Nagito’s eyes opened in real life he beamed at the ceiling as jolts of electricity shot though his body settling in his stomach as butterflies went crazy and he couldn’t contain himself from grabbing his pillow to bite a muffled joyful scream into it, one of the down feathers sticking to his lip as he pulled back from it, his smile still so wide as he swiped it away. Hajime. Hajime was his Chiaki. There was no denying it now. Oh and he was on his way here now! He’d get to see his face unfiltered and hazy-- he’d bet a chest of gold he was handsome. Maybe if he got with him they could find out  _ together _ where the other dragons were and work together to-- ah, he was getting ahead of himself. First, an introduction. Then, they’d fix this broken world. 

Or so the dragon prince with a strange streak of luck hoped it would be that simple. 

As Hajime rode Usami through the twenty foot gate of Winterhold, he couldn’t stop himself from gawking wide-eyed at the beautiful ice walls as he passed under them, his face lit up with a genuine grin that was uncharacteristic for him as he admired how the ice walls sparkled up close and glistened against the sunlight that didn’t provide much warmth up here in the mountains. He wondered absentmindedly what the view from atop it would be like, more precisely what it’d feel like to hang off the edge. Would it feel like one was hanging off the edge of the world? 

That’s how Hajime imagined it to be like, teetering between both wonderful and terrifying. He still needed to find that one day-- the edge of the world, hearing rumors that it was further north than any man had dared go yet, and if any man had gone he’d surely fallen off into the abyss never to return to Skyrim again to share his discovery. He was fascinated by great heights assuming it was because that was the only time he felt like he was actually in danger of dying-- even he couldn’t survive a drop that far. The monster hunter sighed, his breath showing in the cold air.

A few searches by the hold guards and by Gundham’s personal housecarl, Tenko, a girl with hair as black as night, her attitude starkly contrasting it, to show that his weapons had been removed from his person, left inside his satchel with Usami assuming this’d happen and he shouldn’t need them in here, then Hajime was finally permitted to step into the Great Hall to speak with the Jarl of Ice. 

“So, Winterhold isn’t _completely_ terrible,” were Hajime’s first words addressing the jarl and his lovely wife sitting in the throne just next to him. 

Gundham tossed his eyes near to oblivion wishing to cast the hunter into it. “Not terrible? It’s the largest hold in all of Skyrim and the only one with an impregnable wall! Forgoing that entirely-- Let us not waste daylight with nonsensical chatter. You may have a room on the west wing for this night only and I grant you  _ supervised _ time in the library on that end, you’re not permitted in my personal study, it is off limits, and I trust that if I ever do decide to use your services, no matter what the job may be or when I ask it of you, that you’ll divulge your skillset to me? Am I correct in assuming so?” 

Sonia looked at him from the side, scrunching up her blonde eyebrows, her hair pulled up into a fancy bun with an arrangement of ruby clips matching her dress. “His ‘services?’” 

Gundham nodded curtly, clearing his throat. “Precisely. Now that might not be severing a werewolves head, but I hope the invitation is extended to anything I request.” 

Hajime smirked, knowing exactly what he meant. ‘ _ Keep your mouth shut about what you saw and we’re even’ _ is what he took from it. “Any service you ask I’ll do. On my honor.” 

“On the half-breed’s honor,” Gundham mocked with a soft scoff. With a dismissive wave he said, “Cham-P, see him to his room. This dark convene is at it’s close.” 

“Of course!” Cham-P, one of his four hold guards said with a huge toothy smile, his cheeks chubby much like a rodents. Turning to the hunter he sounded eager to help. “Are you ready?” 

Hajime hadn’t brought more than the pair of clothes on his back, having some coin from his latest job now and planning to stop by a shop soon, and he shrugged. “Yeah. I'm ready.” 

Nagito had been told to stay in the east wing for his safety while the monster hunter visited. He’d been given explicit orders by the jarl whose home he was in. But who was this jarl, anyway? Nagito was the Prince of Dragons! And, like Hajime, he wouldn’t bend the knee to anyone! Especially not to someone who was technically a millennium younger than him. So that’s how Nagito found himself hiding beneath the long creamy cloak again, sneaking down hallways as he made his way to the other side, avoiding guards as best he could, sidestepping into rooms or hiding in corners when he saw them, knowing, and taking advantage of, the fact that Gundham hadn’t explicitly told anyone who he was and where he was allowed to go-- him making up an excuse that he was sheltering him in from the cold like he often did for the homeless during the harsher months and though it was summer Winterhold stayed a frozen tundra, snow forever spinning a white web around the city. 

The snow dragon searched through the entirety of the west wing, his hopes bubbling over, keeping his equally highly perceptive ears perked for the sound of his voice, waiting and growing annoyed when he couldn’t hear him anywhere. Wait... He hadn’t come to just stay in his room all day-- the library! Of course, he’d be in one of the libraries. Oh, how romantic it would be to reunite in person the same way they had in spirit, this time able to fully immerse themselves in the experience! Instead of just feeling it, he’d be able to taste the kiss as well, he’d bet money Hajime tasted like something fruity-- perhaps like apples or oranges? Ah, either way, Nagito was so excited he could hardly contain himself feeling that wave of false confidence wash over him as it often did before swinging into his self-deprecating ways. He hoped he kept up the façade long enough to entice the monster hunter. Then he stopped short. Monster hunter. He’d admitted to him that he was a monster. 

The dragon prince realized a bit too late that this might not be the best of ideas, sneaking in, without even letting the owner of the castle know he was doing it, to meet someone hellbent on killing his kind. But _Hajime_ was his kind! He just needed to have some light shed on him, to be pulled out of his ignorant ways and brought back to who he truly was deep down: a kind, funny, genuine, hope-filled person with a heart of gold much larger than any sack of coin he could be paid for his bloody services. Opening the library stealthily Nagito noticed the muscled hold guard Maga-G hanging off Hajime’s every move, solely focused on watching him like a hawk making sure the hunter didn’t either try to steal or tamper with any of Gundham’s collection, not hearing Nagito stepping inside since he was being especially quiet. Hajime, however, had. His eyes lifted as his hand stalled on the spine of the book he’d just been about to pull out, a cold child washing over him.

When Hajime’s eyes finally left the bookcase slowly turning to meet grayish green ones spotting a mop of curly wild white hair above him like a halo revealed as Nagito undid his hood to show himself, the brunette’s breath hitching seeing him in real life and without a cloudy face to hide behind, his heart skipping a few beats before freezing over. It was uncanny, this man looking exactly like he’d imagined his apparition to appear; beautiful angelic features all around, his slender hand touching his chest with a warm smile clearly happy to see him, Nagito thinking that he’d be a chest of gold richer if he’d made that bet on Hajime’s good looks while Hajime’s red eye saw the white aura hanging off him like a translucent cloak, a tiny fog hugging his pale skin. It was a telling aura and Hajime knew exactly what it meant: this stranger really was a monster.  In his dream taken hostage he'd even told him so willingly! Wait. Was willingly the right word? No. Stupidly seemed more fitting. 

It was like Hajime’s mind had been split into two, his green eye soaking in all of his features while his red dissected them. One voice, a softer one that sounded foreign to the smartass mutant, told him to go to him, to lift him in an embrace spinning him like lovers did, to kiss him unabashedly and breathlessly just like in his dream that he now had no doubts had been tampered with causing a fierce blush to darken his cheeks fast; And the second voice in his head, the much louder and familiar voice to Hajime, screamed that he’d done this to humiliate him, that he was a highly skilled witch with his shields down, and that he had not only snuck into this castle right underneath Gundham’s nose but had lured Hajime here for this specific meeting. Hajime’s face lifted with a grin Nagito was quick to reciprocate, the hunter’s fingers leaving the books, forgetting entirely about Maga-G and his search for information on the dragons, his crimson eye practically gleaming as he stepped across the way and much like he had in his dream he pushed the man against the bookcase. Starkly contrasting his dream however were Hajime’s hands now wrapping themselves around the monster’s throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also!! I feel like there is something missing with the first few chapters (Forced? idk how to explain it) anyway was there anything about any of these chapters that you guys found yourself skipping over instead of reading? I want to know if they are any boring info dumps/ descriptive settings that go on too long (I freaking hate descriptive settings yall don't even know its ridiculously hard for me whereas emotion isn't lol) 
> 
> PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK I WILL LOVE YOU <3 *constructive criticism is absolutely welcomed I mean lol*


	5. Update on the Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just letting you guys know whats up.

NOT AN ACTUAL CHAPTER!!

So, I haven't had my laptop the last few days and it's been kind of liberating to take a breath away from writing. I'm going to be honest with you guys, I'm a little discouraged right now. I don't like my writing style and I'm not very happy with my inability to write in a clear, short, and concise way-- I'm still working on writing without overwriting but my OCD does hinder me especially without medication which is far out of my payrange (they want fucking 500 bucks a month-- they can eat a bag of dicks before I do that.) Either way, for my sanity and so I don't lose the love of writing overall I'm going to take an actual break. It'll probably just be for a few weeks and I'm so sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger like this but I just can't look at my writing-- I can't look at it without wanting to delete it all. I don't even like "You're Alone, Kokichi. And You Always Will Be" right now, and the thought to take it down has crossed my mind a few times. Anyways, thank you guys for reading this and I hope you understand my short absence and I hope you'll still be here in a few weeks when I come back to pick this story up! Thank you for all the love and support and I'll see yall when I'm in a better headspace <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you like it so far! :)


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